What kind of sport do pumpkins like best?
Squash
It's Springtime in the Great White North….
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Boo.
Boo who?
Don’t cry, the lame Halloween jokes are over.
So. It’s 10:20 pm on the Saturday before Halloween and Janie Jones is:
It’s wild and crazy at the House of Jones.
Would it be a horrifyingly scary Halloween story if I explained why I was washing my down pillow?
A doctor walks into an exam room to see a dead man in a fine suit laid out on the table.
The doctor, obviously, is unnerved by this. “Wh-wha-at the Hell!”
The body rises slowly and speaks with a raspy quality, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbed together, “Good evening, doctor.”
“H-help!” Squeaks the doctor.
“Yes.” The body leans in to whisper, and the doctor notices the lips curl up to expose two sharp fangs. “But, actually I want to ask your help. I haven’t been feeling very good of late.”
“You’re a vampire!” Petrified beyond all belief the doctor stumbles backward and sinks into a chair.
The vampire waves his hand dismissively and says, “And, you are short, ugly and are having an affair with your secretary. We none of us are strangers to evil.” The vampire is abruptly overcome by a wracking cough which continues for several minutes before finally quieting down.
The doctor blinks several times trying to absorb this information and automatically offers a box of tissues, but the vampire waves them away. The doctor notices it is a particularly dry sounding cough and the vampire doesn’t gasp for breath. Finally the doctor says as politely as possible, “But, um, Sir, you… you, are d-dead after all.”
“Undead.” The vampire corrects, then is interrupted by another bout of wicked coughing. “As you can see I have a terrible cough. It has been plaguing me for some time. I’ve drank gallons of Robitussin to no avail. As you can imagine, it is becoming quite a pain in the neck.”
The doctor blanched a little.
“My apologies.” Rasped the vampire, “Perhaps I should not have used that figure of speech.”
The doctor just nodded.
“Anyway,” Continued the vampire, “I just can’t bring myself to suck on Halls, especially after becoming accustomed to sucking an elegant neck, they are quite distasteful.”
The doctor swallowed hard at this statement before suggesting, “Have you tried a vaporizer?”
The vampire looked at him and snorted, “A vaporizer? Are you serious? Do you really see a point in that?”
“O-oh, um, yes. I forgot. That would be a rather vain exercise, I suppose.” The doctor, noticing the sharp fangs instantly regretted his choice of words. He self-consciously snugged up his tie and rubbed his jugular as he cleared his throat. “Ahem. How stupid of me. A-any other s-symptoms?”
“Oh, yes, I seem to be losing a lot of weight.”
“Riight,” Says the doctor. “How’s your, um, a-appetite l-lately?”
“That’s just it,” Says the vampire, “My appetite is just fine, but I can’t seem to get a bite for all my coffin.”
What is a vampire’s favorite joke?
Knock knock
Who’s there?
Ivanna
Ivanna who?
Ivanna bite your neck!
-All other jokes drive vampires batty.
Why did the Hell Hound cross the road?
Because the skeleton threw him a bone.
Why did he never come back?
Because there was still a bone of contention between him and the skeleton.
Why did the ghost cross the road?
Because the chicken was afraid he’d see something too ghoulish.
Why did the mummy cross the road?
To tell the chicken what was on the other side.
Why did the chicken finally cross the road?
Because the mummy kept what he saw under wraps and the skeleton didn’t have the guts.
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